


Sentimental Copy

by IcyRain_Hollows



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Mostly Fluff, Talon Tracer, Two Tracer's, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-04-30 06:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14491155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyRain_Hollows/pseuds/IcyRain_Hollows
Summary: The Slipstream was more than tossing a dematerialized Lena around in time, it tore her into two. One was saved by Overwatch, but the other was kept unknown until recently.





	1. A Spitting Image

Spotted. A handful of dim red lights focused in one location granting confirmation on the location of the enemy. With a quick twirl the two weapons at hand were reloaded and a hum that moments ago was nearly muted started to increase in volume. "Sniper found! I call dibs!" Her voice erupted through the comm as she stepped forward readying to blink forward.

As quickly as the hum began, it died. A hand taking a harsh hold of the woman trying to speed her target. There wasn't even a moment to whip around before she was rudely tossed against the sidewalk. "Don't think so, that _lush_ sniper is _mine_." Her words matched that of the woman's on the ground. Same tone, pitch, and energetic personality. "You are going to dance with me. Try to keep up." 

The moment felt limitless, as though everything froze or perhaps it was going so fast it felt halted. She fixed her gaze on her assaulter only to find herself. She was staring at herself. With a few hard blinks, she rose to her feet. A sinking feeling crept over her, "It can't..I haven't.." 

"You are certainly correct," the other Tracer said with a devilish grin as she knocked the accelerator that clung to the body as though it were a door of some sorts. "You haven't destroyed your anchor."

She stepped back quickly, drawing her weapons. "Then who exactly are you supposed to be?"

"It's blatant." The look-a-like sighed as she took her focus off Tracer and to the woman on the rooftops silently working away. It made her feel giddy. She returned her view onto the other. "I'm Tracer."

"Sorry, Love, but I don't believe you. Tell me who you are or else I'll bury these bullets in you."

"Tosh. If anything I'll be pasting you against the ground with a loud splat." She snickered, "but I am tired of just standing here, wastin' my time." The look-a-like drew her weapons giving the other Tracer a fragment of a second to blink out of the way before she unloaded. It made her laugh seeing the other so quickly flee. 

Quick to reload she closed their distance to yet again have the other blink away while firing a small spray of bullets from her pistols. Her fire finally commencing their game of tag as the two were zip-zagged all around. Blurs of blue staining the air, nearly frozen streaks following its owners existence before slowly fading into nothing and leaving no trace of neither of the woman.

It wasn't until a loud crack and a whistle of a bullet buzzing right between them that their attention was brought to halt and their game put on pause. On the roof top stood the woman in blue skin wearing her usual form-fitting attire. She had adjusted her sniper to rest on her shoulder as her free hand made a beckoning gesture.

One face light up while the other was left in confusion.

"Time out! Looks like my rides calling!" The enemy Tracer chirped as she waved happily to her partner on the rooftops. "Don't worry, Tracer, I'll be back before you know it!" 

Before she had a chance to object, the look-a-like zipped away to the roof tops where she was grabbed by The Widowmaker and grappled to their departing flight.

Lena couldn't seem to make herself move forward, staring at the scene while clusters of questions started to seemingly appear all at once.

 _Who was that? Was that a clone? How does she have a chronal accelerator? Why does she work for Talon? Did she call Widowmaker **lush**?_

The rush of questions were pushed aside, "My team!" She shouted to herself, hurrying her way to where she had last saw them.

As she arrived she was greeted with D.va out of her meka, "They ruined it! It won't start up and I don't know where the bug is!" She was angry, examining the damage done the pink robotic machine that wasn't responding to her or any of her commands. Physically the heep of metal was in one piece, not to much damage aside from a few bullet indents. 

The issue was that it wasn't working, shield matrix wouldn't project, the rockets wouldn't start up, and overall wasn't doing anything the girl wanted it to do so she had to abandon it. She noticed Lena, "We lost. They took what they wanted, and we lost."

If there was anything that the meka-pilot hate, it was loosing. That applied to everything. "They took our supplies, and Genji barely dodged a bullet. What are we? Scrubs? I can't stand for this! I can already hear them mocking me." 

"Take a breather, Love. Everyone is still kicking." 

"My meka isn't! One of them managed to hack it! Ooh, I can't stand hackers!" She continues to grumble under her breath as she continued trying to find the bug that messed with the systems so much.

On the other hand, Genji was approaching. He was fully facing Tracer when he asked, "Did something go wrong? I thought you were taking the sniper."

"I was going to but then I ran into another me! She tried to splatter me all over the ground."

"And I would've lost my head if it weren't for D.va. Did you say there was another you?" It was hard to tell what he was feeling, there were no facial expressions to examine and he kept a sturdy posture. 

"Spooky, right? She came out of nowhere; I was sure my accelerator was acting up but I had just gone through maintenance before this mission."

"That doesn't sound good." Although his face wasn't seen, Tracer could practically feel his gaze fixed to the glowing circle on her chest. 

A part of her wanted that other Tracer to be some sort of error, but at the same time part of her wanted the look-a-like to be its own entity. She did not want to disappear, nor have her memories overlap to the point she couldn't tell if they were real or not. But, she also did not want to have to fight a version of herself. Not for her own sake, but her team.

 

* * *

 

"Did you see that, Love?!" A bounce in her step helped her voice sound even more energetic than it already was. "She was so shocked! Oh, you would have enjoyed the look on her face. It had fear written all over it. And our game," she was giggling as she spoke, "I understand why you like it so much. Such a thrilling race!"  
She paced as she spoke, little hops in her step ever so often as her arms gave expressive gestures when she gave details about the encounter and their game of tag.

The entire time Widowmaker sat quietly, her eyes didn't bother following the other's gestural description, instead she watched her pace back and forth, listening. It was something she had always known within her time at Talon, between her Tracer and Sombra, there was always something to talk about. It was more of a one-sided conversation.

It wasn't long until Reaper took a spot beside her, "Your little speed demon is getting on my nerves." He was blunt about his complaints regarding to Tracer.

"Didn't know you had any left." Widow replied dryly, not taking her eyes off the excited character. 

There was a faint grumble of irritation following her response. "How you handle her is beyond me."

"You handled the cowboy before, yeah?" She didn't know the details, but knew enough. "I figure it is something like that." 

Before the walking dead man had a chance to response, she rose her voice for Tracer to hear. "Cherie, you are being an annoyance."

It stopped the speed demon dead in her tracks, quickly whipping her head around to face her. "Oh, such your gob! You know I'm your favorite annoyance."

"That's a stretch. There is always the other Tracer." She received a pout, Tracer going over to her side.

"Give up on me that easy, Love?" The pout was replaced with an evil yet loving smirk, "then training will be very fun."

"That so? Maybe try to make me feeling something for once?" Her brow raised sharply, challenging.

A laugh followed, "Oh ho ho, you're on hot shot!"

"Hot shot indeed." 

With that she raised a hand to the Brit's chest. Unlike Overwatch's chronal accelerator for Lena, this one had a turning dial. Thanks to enhancements made, it allowed them to turn the center and change its color. The standard was blue, like the original. But on the field or at base, it didn't settle well. A lot of people complained that they would not be able to tell the difference between the two Tracer's if they ever encountered.

Therefore they had different settings, and Widowmaker was switching the blue to red. There were two more settings after that. One for assassin mode, which materialized a red and white armor with scythe-like weapons at its arms, and the other turned the glowing light into a dim purple, meant only to be used if the woman wanted to remove the harness. It was implanted for the purpose of informing others that she took it off on purpose and wasn't having any malfunction. There did not want any unnecessary panics.

After the light flickered from one color to the next, Tracer allowed herself to finally take a seat beside her, leaving the blue skinned woman in-between the speed demon and the reaper. Not that she really cared where she was sitting. 

Soon enough she felt the other's warm hand on her arm, tracing over the lines of the tattoo with amusement. Dark, evident, and taunting. Tracer loved it, and it was even better since it was on her favorite person. "I should get a tattoo," she mumbled, "what do you think?"

"I could care less what you do." She felt Tracer's nails dip into the harsh lines, putting quite a bit of pressure but not enough to break the skin.

"Clearly," she rolled her eyes, "but I want you to help me choose, think of something, anything!" 

"This is not my job. Talk to Sombra about it." 

"Fine. But you better believe I'm dragging you with," she gave no room for objections as she then shouted, "Sombra!"


	2. Hiya!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What one Tracer feels, the other feels in memory. Thus creating dissociation and deja vu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Second Tracer is the Assassin from Retribution.

A mere two weeks breezed by, and Lena was still left wondering what in the world was going on. Every day since her little encounter she had herself checked, and yet there were no issues to be found. For a moment there was a thought that perhaps it was a Lena from some other time line or dimension, however all that stuff worked, but it was quickly shut down. 

This other Lena, this look-a-like, had its own anchor and wasn't at all ghostly or suffering in any sort of way. It was fully aware of the world around her and was filled with determined certainty. There wasn't much that could be answered until Winston met the other Lena himself, or the safer route, saw some footage on how she acted, blinked, recalled, the whole nine yards. 

With that in mind, she made sure to have a camera attached to her on her next mission. It was small and would go unnoticed unless someone was specifically searching her for it. 

Today was a solo mission, rumors of Talon targeting a civilian that had gotten too close. The details were vague, and how anyone could get that close was beyond her, but there were people who managed it. That did not mean they generally lived long. A bullet to the head or simply a head rolling without being attached to a body were the most common. 

A Sniper and an Assassin. 

There were rumors that went around about both. The sniper, known as Widowmaker, was told to be brutal, emotionless and felt nothing. If someone were her target, no matter the inconveniences, she would make sure the mission was completed. That much she had learned through their roof-top meetings. As for the assassin, there was even less. No one ever heard anyone address it with an official code-name, and wasn't one to speak, instead acted animalistic. Some called it a speed demon, known to cut its target apart.

Thankfully, it only appeared in locations in Italy. 

Much to Lena's misfortune, the rumors led her to Italy. Trento, Italy to be more precise. Which was more or less a two to three hour drive from Venice.  
The moment she stepped foot into Italy she felt as though she was being watched. She had brushed it off as cameras, if Talon's base was nearby, then she expected as much. That being said, she also expected people to target her. There was no doubt in her mind that they wouldn't take her appearance in Italy lightly considering past events. 

A stronger feeling of being watched crashed onto her the moment she arrived in Trento. It turned out her growing suspicion was correct. An unnerving growl creeping into the air and somehow over powering all other noises. 

Barely a moment later there was an armored figure that zipped themselves at Lena, leaving a dim flash of red in its wake. Lena did a quick blink to the side, pulling out her weapons before letting them blaze. The sound of the bullets only made the assassin hiss, and metal colliding with metal made for an uncomfortable ringing.   
For a moment the lit up eyes met with Tracer's and a terrifying shriek erupted from it before zipping themselves at her. The blade that had been attached to its arm dematerialized, leaving them to place a painful punch to the gut. In the same interaction, Tracer had smashed her pistol against the headgear.

There was enough force in both their blows to make them both stumble back, Tracer groaning as she clenched her stomach and the assassin holding its head while making an uncomfortable whine. 

During the brief pause Tracer quickly yanked out her pulse bomb, attaching to the armor being. If she could end this person for good then she was more than happy to let it drop. "Bombs away!" She said with a victorious grin as she was quick to make distance, only to stumble and fall back. The motion of blinking with the increased pain in her gut made her extremely nauseous. 

Meanwhile, despite the assassin's speed, they were unable to make enough of a distance before the bomb burst. Only able to get it off their body before it happened.

After a surge of pain the assassin recalled, leaving them undamaged like they were in the very beginning of the fight. 

Tracer's eyes widen watching it recall, "No way!" She had thought the blinking was a dash mechanic like Genji's suit allowed him to do. But recall? No machine or armor should be doing that. "You are-"

"Slow. Try to keep up." The assassin's usual animalistic noises were briefly replaced with a slightly robotic one. Returning to her arm was the blade she'd dismissed earlier in order to lay a punch. She approached the Tracer still sitting on the ground, pressing the edge of the blade to her throat. "You were eager to place the bomb on me. Frankly, I don't take handouts, Love. But you aren't my priority target tonight. Unless you're daft, I suggest you scamper home."

"Oi, you forgetting I can recall too?"

"Na, but now you have no attack for if you're in a jiffy. Besides," the unoccupied blade pushed strands of hair out of Tracer's face, "don't think Em will be to happy to hear that you were slashed to bits." She cooed, "you would make excellent dip for chips too."

Her words made Tracer mad, anything that was once shock or fear was replaced with some anger. "I swear I'll splatter you if you lay a hand on her. How do you even know her?" The fact that there was a blade at her throat meant nothing.

"The same way you seemed to know Widowmaker before your first encounter. Doesn't reality feel fake in her presence? Like chrono-disassociation?" 

"But why would you being reacting that way?"

"Wow." The assassin laughed, "you really can't keep up, can you? I'm sure your big guy Winston can assist with your lack of speed. As my lady would say, à la prochaine!" She practically sang those ending words before removing the blade and blinking away up and onto a nearby building.

Tracer scurried to her feet and followed her up but once on top, there was no sign of the assassin or her whereabouts. She bit her lower lip with a frown.

 

* * *

  
Strolling in the building, the assassin immediately took off her blades and handed to some random Talon employee, "Clean and sharpen those, if you don't sharpen them correctly I'll be sure to dull them again with you as the dummy." She said with little interest over the random stranger. She let the armor dematerialize and allowed the core light to turn red.

Without so much as a second thought, she made her way to Widowmaker's room. They were on terms where they could enter each other's rooms whenever they wanted. Therefore she walked right in, "Widow, Love, you here?" She stepped into the room to find that there was no one there. Instead the room was neutral other than the few things she had to pass the time, or items that Tracer had insisted be there.

A few books rested on the floor, slightly peaking out from underneath the bed. The wall had a painting of a raven, and the window sill had a small succulent plant. On a desk was a sketch book, manual, and pieces of Widow's Kiss laid out. It seemed as though the spider woman had been cleaning her weapon before leaving her room. She went and plopped on the edge of the bed, taking off her shoes, then turned her harness to the purple light before taking it off and setting down. 

She plopped over, "I should get her a new poster or something." She sprawled out in a stretch and soon enough she heard a gentle tapping near the entrance. She looked over with a grin, "Hiya!"

"You are getting comfortable. This isn't your room." Widowmaker left her position by the door, closing it behind her and made her way to the bed.

"Yeah, yeah, don't act like you don't enjoy my company. Come on," she patted the bed, "lay with me." 

Despite the lack of emotion on the sniper's face, she let herself fall to the bed beside her with grace. She nearly regretted the decision as Tracer took hold of her arm, clinging to it. "Must you do that? You are burning."

"Shut it, you can survive the desert so you can survive my body heat." She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder.

Widow rolled her eyes, "If you give me my arm back then maybe I'll hold you."

There was no convincing needed, Tracer let go of her arm. Widow turned onto her side and draped her arms around the Brit, it wasn't a tight hold but it was satisfying for the smaller woman. Of course, that did not mean she would be quiet. "So I was thinking about that tattoo still. I like roses, and you like lilies. I want to combine the two. Doesn't red roses and black lilies sound good together?"

"That is not my job."

"I know, but I already talked to Sombra about it. I want your input." 

There was silence for a few minutes before she responded, "Where?"

"Huh. I don't know. What sounds better, leg or neck?"

"Leg."

"Brilliant! I will get that tattoo on my leg then. Then we'll both have tattoos!" Tracer said with enthusiasm.

"My tattoos have nothing to do with you." She responded dryly to the other's excitement.

She let out a snort in response, "So? If I want a tattoo that represents us, then I will get one. Never said you needed to do that...unless you want to..?" There was a small ounce of hopefulness in her tone.

"Would you be quiet if I said I'll think about it?" When she received a nod she spoke again, "then I will think about it. Now shush." She closed her eyes and pulled the other woman closer to her. Tracer couldn't help but to cuddle up to her, a silly and stupid grin on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case of curiosity, Talon Tracer's code name is Storm. Though, she prefers to be called Lena by Widowmaker, Sombra and Reaper. Moira calls her Tracer out of habit. There will be chapters explaining how Storm (Lena) was kept secret and why they brought her out but for now. Enjoy this.
> 
> Also thanks to all of you who left kudos and comments. I do read them and I love seeing what has to be said. If anyone has an idea for the story, please don't be afraid to suggest it! Fluff and plot suggestions are wonderful!


	3. A Marking for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a link between two.

The surface of her skin getting caught numerous times by the tip of a needle was not her favorite way to pass time. She laid there staring blankly at the ceiling as she got the image of a lily with two smaller red roses printed into the skin of her hip. It did not particularly matter if her skin was blue, or that her blood was sluggish, the pigment held well without consequence. 

What was more baffling was the fact that she managed to get talked into this. It wasn't like her Lena was hounding her or forcing her to do it either. Though, it wasn't in a very open area of her body, which meant it'd be primarily reserved for her. She did not think how often the other would actually see it. It was more of a sentimental aspect for Lena.

It never made sense to Widowmaker as to why the other was sentimental. There was no need to be. Everything Lena ever got for her were chosen with such care. The painting on her wall was chosen based on The Raven by Edgar Poe because his stories were ones they have read together. The sketchbook was filled with both of their drawings, and Lena made sure to fill it with doodles of birds and bizarre looking creatures because she knew that she liked them. 

The same woman managed to keep tabs on what she preferred when it came to meals and touches as well. It was rather strange. Lena knew that she liked her meals; either obviously bitter or overly sweet, no in between. She knew that Widow liked having her tattoos traced and her curves outlined.

And with the preferences, Lena also knew plenty of negatives. She knew that spicy and greasy foods were largely a huge no-no. She also knew that grabbing Widow by her wrists or touching behind her knees caused a physically aggressive reaction. 

These were aspects about herself that Lena knew all too well. It was why the doctors and nurses largely did not touch her unless necessary. Otherwise they'd give the Brit any medication, shots, etc, that she may have needed. 

All the aspects of life that she had liked Lena took to heart. Naturally she would not care about the reasonings for other's actions, but admittedly, she wanted to know hers. 

It was hours under the needle, and she had no reaction. There was no pain and was too deep in thought to hear the tattoo artist try to talk to her. She barely realized that the ink was irritating her skin as it does for anyone getting a tattoo. 

Once it was finally over the artist had to touch her to snap her to her attention. It took her quite of a bit to restrain herself from attacking. This human was a stranger after-all. But she held it down, and the tension she felt went unnoticeable. 

It seemed to confuse the worker as they watched Widowmaker get up from where she was with ease. To most that would've been hard, but again, she felt none of it.   
The exchange of words were few. There was some directions on how to take care of the tattoo in its healing stages, other than that, nothing. 

This process Lena had been doing in trips; it took awhile to cover the side of a leg. Today was her last session, she had been sure to take Widow on her last session so their tattoos would be done at the same time. She was gleeful to the blue woman approach her while wearing a knee-length dress. "Almost done here?"

"Uh-huh! Just having some finishing touches! Can I see how yours turned out?" She was staying still for that the artist was still working on her, but she was more than excited to see. Not just the tattoo, but Widowmaker. She loved being in her presence. 

There was a moment without any response but soon enough she was lifting her dress to reveal the still very irritated image.

"Wow, love, that's a very gorgeous tat. It suits you more than it will me." She laughed, mostly to herself. 

"This was your idea." She lowered her dress and took a closer step to Lena. She then held her hand out, inviting.

It was an invitation happily accepted, as the artist was putting on Lena's finishing touches, the two were holding hands. They were strangely content. Not many people in the shop, they did not seem to question nor care about their relationship. It was almost comfortable.

 

* * *

  
A month had practically flown by, Winston had been watching the photage captured by their secret camera on repeat. There were notes, theories, and assumptions practically littered everywhere on digital files. It was clear that the copy was no mafunction, and given the damage done with the pulse bomb, it proved it wasn't a well put together machine.

It had nearly all of Tracer's properties, not just in abilities, but quite a bit in personality too. A twisted version of Lena's original personality, but it still seemed very much like her. Lively, full of energy, determination and emotion. 

There were two primary possibilities. Cloning, which had made huge advancement over the years, was unstable when it came to humans. The more complex the brain of a species was, the harder it was to reproduce said creature. Also, despite what many people believe, clones generally do not come out as identical. 

Another idea went back to the Slipstream. Just like his Lena, that one also needed an anchor to reality. Which meant that they would have had to of gone through the same event. 

It had never occurred to him, or anyone for that matter, that Lena could have been split a part. Her memories have, so it wasn't impossible that she separated physically too. 

The more he dove into the theory, the more evidence started to pile up. It was why Lena always knew where to look for Widowmaker, could always sneak in behind enemies despite the glowing orb on her chest, and knew when to get Emily out of certain areas and at what times.

The two Lena's had a link, so whatever one saw or felt, the other would feel it was well but dulled or in passing. An aspect some would give to twins, able to communicate without words and no matter the distance.

 

* * *

  
A wash of need crashed over Lena. She wanted to cuddle, be held, and watch a movie or listen to music with their warm bodies connected. It was nagging at her. She always felt a desire to give affection, and she was more than happy to recieve it. But sometimes it was unbarable how much she wanted attention.

Perhaps it was her need of comfort, she'd been on edge ever since the other Tracer made their presence known. Though, this feeling arrived plenty before their appearance. She could never remember a time before the Slipstream where she so desperately wanted affection. It was like she could feel the ghost of someone holding her hand, someone running their fingers through her tuffs of her, someone picking up her and giving her a strong and graceful twirl yet she knew none of that was actually happening.

A click of a cup against the table was enough to catch her attention, looking at the small glass vessel containing earl gray tea. The person who had set the cup down was carrying one for themselves before taking a seat on the couch beside her. 

Red. Bright. Vibrant. 

Emily was always eye catching, the fiery red-orange of her hair, the blazing intensity of her warm eyes, not the mention the sharp contrast of the little bits of green she managed to squeeze into every outfit without anything clashing. She really did take the oxygen out of the room. Every breath that Lena lost, she swore the fire that was her girlfriend grew. 

Not that she minded, more love to spread to each flicker of the flame. 

"You are very distracted today," her voice was what really catch Lena's full attention, "are you still worried?

"Maybe a bit. Nothing to get overly worried about though. Sure Winston's goin' to figure this out for us." She felt like she was trying to convince herself rather than assure Emily.

"Mhm, and that is why you are just staring holes into the wall?" She sipped at her tea as Lena adjusted the weight of her body so that she was gently leaning against the other.

"I'm not staring holes, am I not allowed to think?"

The response made Emily giggle, "my girlfriend? Thinking? I thought she was too much of a useless lesbian for anything as dynamic as thinking." 

"Oi!" She exclaimed, pretending to be offended for a split second before laughing. It was hard to resist. "Okay, okay, I may be a gay mess-"

"Just a mess?"

"Okay, a gay _disaster_. But that doesn't mean I can't think of ways to better the world, Love."

"I know," Emily wore a pleased and happy smile as her lips met Lena's forehead. "And no matter how useless of a lesbian you are, you will always be my favorite hero." 

With that she wrapped a free arm Lena, pulling her close and giving her yet another kiss. This time on the cheek. Her other hand still held her tea, but that was a mindless detail now. It was so easy to be consumed by the fire. Where warmth engulfed her and dried up the wave of need, replacing it was a glowing satisfaction. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of plot, but there some sweet fluffiness in this chapter that I enjoy writing.  
> I hope this chapter and story is enjoyable so far! Suggestions are still on the table!
> 
> Also, Widowmaker has been wearing the dress the entire, it was simply lifted so that she could get the tattoo. I wanted to clear that up in case it was confusing.


	4. Both In One Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What one Tracer knows, the other knows in passing.

Usual songs sung by the city were swirling through the air casually. There was the faint hums from hover vehicles, and the echoes of people's chatters. Even in the darkened hours of the day there was light shining on them all, bright, vibrant, and somehow not distracting.  
With at atmosphere so normal for the environment, it made the sense of danger seem impossible besides average day to day risks. But she always had a hunch for these types of situations, a lingering feeling that seemed to repeat over and over until she sought them out.

Generally these gut led adventures led her to Widowmaker. A being where information on her whereabouts were far and few between. If Talon was playing predictably, then it would be easy to pin-point their Spider's next location. But often times they enjoyed throwing their wild-cards, rarely allowing her to take on repeat missions or those with a trail.

It didn't seem to matter which card they dropped, Lena was always their to catch it in some way even without insight. Though, no matter how many times she'd follow these aimless cards, she would miss the primary catch.

To find that lethal body was one thing, but to catch, talk and actually keep the woman? That was a whole other story. Perhaps a series.  
Slipping through bodies, she kept her eyes at the edge of rooftops. If the other was truly around, she was bound to be above her, she always was. In that sense, she was predictable. She hoped that despite the blue beacon on her chest, the crowds of humans and omnics would protect her from the Sniper's sights. At least until Lena got to spot her first.

The more she searched, staring up for any menacing red dots or perhaps two yellow ones that overpowered stars, the more she felt she was searching in the wrong places. There were plenty of blind spots in a city, between the towering structures, screens, and people, the possibilities would be rather endless. And with a body like Widowmaker's, one that can blend into the cool night's shadows, she could take any location she so pleased for as long as she wasn't spotted.

A possibility crossed her mind that the Sniper could be on the ground. It was a sudden realization but why would that woman bring herself to be near so many people? There was no advantage, everyone would have easy access to her, not the mention she'd be a sore eye if she dared wandered. Not just due to her blue body, but her reflective suit, visor, and Widow's Kiss. Those weren't everyday sights and someone would be bound to notice.  
The same moment she brushed off the possibility, she stumbled, as if on cue, into another body. One that was left unaffected by the sudden collision, and was painfully cold. All Lena managed was to utter half an apology before her eyes locked with those bright as suns. Any air she had a split-second again was ripped from her lungs as she recognized that figure towering over her, giving her a ice piercing look.

On that figure resided no gun however, neither was there evidence of her classical attire. Instead she stood tall, confident, in high black wedges, a form fitting button up coat that ended near her thighs, and a skirt that sneaked past it, resting at her knees. The blue of her legs were hidden under white stockings, and her hair was let down to frame her face so that the cool shadows only made her skin seem blue to civilians. And top it all off, she was wearing a hat that matched the rest of her outfit.

"Cat caught your tongue? Or are you going to continue to stare?" There was no trace of a threat, but Lena was nearly positive there was something deadly woven into those words. 

"You're on the ground." She said with a hint of shock. 

"How observant of you. I would not have known that otherwise." Widow's response was sarcastic, a short lived roll of her eyes ending her remark. "If all you are going to do is stare and state the obvious, you are better off just running along home."

"As if! You're not exactly a rise of sunshine I want walking about the city."

"Never wanted to be anyone's sunshine. But I will walk around as I so please. Now if you excuse me, Tracer. I have work to do." She stepped past the spiky haired character to only have that woman re-take her place in front of her.

"Oh no you do not! I can't let ya go killin-"

"Who said I was here to assassinate anyone?" Widow cut her off to counter her statement, a sharp brow raised in question.

There was no wound visiable on the outside of her body. With her current attire, even a coat, it was too form fitting to hide. A knife however, those could fit into pockets and it wasn't uncommon for people to be skillful enough to hide small hand-guns under their hats.

"Oh, I don't know, you are only Talon's best assassin. I can't imagine she does anything else besides put bullets between people's eyes."

"A bullet."

"What?" 

"A bullet. One. I only need one." She corrected Lena with a nearly insulted expression. An every so slightly insulted expression that if she weren't so close, she would have missed entirely. "Besides, Cherie, do you see any gun? No."

Just as she was about to ask this blue woman a question, it was answered, "and don't try patting me down. I have nothing to attack yo with. If I did, I would have done so."

Lena didn't have much of a counter. That, Widowmaker took victory.

"Now, let's try that again. Excuse me, I have work to do." She repeated herself, and for a second time, stepped past her.

A quick turn on her the heels of her feet, and Lena was following behind. "Imma 'fraid I can't let you just walk away without knowin' what you're up to, Love."

"So you plan to follow me?"

"Yuppers!

"How annoying."

 

* * *

  
Silence had fallen over them, particularly over the walking weapon slightly ahead of her. There were no glares tossed over her shoulder, or even glances to acknowledge her existence in general. Only confident strides moving towards a destination that was unsaid. It seemed almost ghostly trailing behind and in time with those steps. A moment like this, where the Spider's focus wasn't casted upon her were far and few between.

Actually, there was only one instance that Lena cold remember clearly.

It was during a strike in Germany. Their tango was suddenly cut short when the Sniper stopped without warning. Something about it feel so terribly fake, as though there was some internal switch that turned off her harsh attention on Tracer. It seemed more other worldly when the woman became distracted, her eyes shifting between two locations in an unsteady manner.

Obviously one of those looks were tossed at Tracer, bt the other seemed aimless. There was no person, no or anything moving at all where her eyes drifted to. Her stance was not that of someone ready to attack, and seemed rather vulnerable in that moment.  
The atmosphere of that day lingered to now, her gaze wasn't on a solid target and somehow largely ignored her traveling behind. Instead she wavered, staying quiet while appearing vulnerable despite that confident form she always took.

A perk to their current situation was the fact that they weren't fighting, and no one around them was either. There was nothing to drag this little trail Lena had to an end. So, maybe, just maybe, she could learn something, anything. Perhaps not about Widowmaker herself, but that copy.  
The look-a-like seemed handsy with the Sniper, so...she must know something right?

"You and that..other Tracer..what is your relationship?" She figured she'd try.

There was a moment of nothing. No acknowledgement, or stopping. It was only a moment though. "We do as we are told. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Does anyone in Talon ever do anything besides work and blindly follow?"

"Yes."

"What do you do?"

"Whatever there is to do." The answer wasn't much of one, didn't really reveal anything. But that didn't matter anymore. Widow had suddenly stopped, peering over her shoulder at Tracer for the first time tonight before re-directing her gaze toward a local jewelry shop.

It might have been relatively late, but the store was still open. Large bullet-proof windows allowing people to take a glimpse at what was inside. Past the display, further in the store, were tons of other set-ups and styles of jewelry.

"Somethin' caught your eye?" Lena asked, following her gaze. 

She received a thoughtful hum in response, but gave no other verbal answer. Instead she stepped to the entrance and opened the door. She held it there, a silent invitation for the Brit to follow. An invite that Lena willingly took.

Nothing about the situation settled comfortably. Talon's best was snooping around without a weapon, no sign of attacking, and was allowing her rival of all people to tag along. It was as though reality was blurring with another.

What was even more strange was the interest Widowmaker took. She could not imagine a woman stripped of whom she once was would be materialistic in anyway. She had not shown a liking, or rather any reaction at all, to specific objects other than her gun. 

Once they both had entered the store, Widow took lead. Her steps were slow as she eyed a few pieces of jewelry. Most of what caught her attention were items containing red hues in them. 

As Lena wondered what about the color was so appealing to her, there was an answer. The second time tonight it has happened. "She likes red."  
She was nearly convinced Widow could read her mind. The other had always said in passing that she was predictable but this was ridiculous. Not to mention it felt out of character, her speaking without some sort of threat or witty comment.

"Who likes red?" She had a thought as to whom, but wanted clarification. 

Again. All she did was hum in thought as she continued her round about the store, falling quiet.

A few minutes pass, and an employee calls for the her. "Lena Oxton, are you here for pick up?" 

What? 

She turned to the worker with confusion plastered on her face. She had no memory of going into any jewelry store within the recent months, nonetheless purchasing something that she couldn't taken home immediately. 

She pointed to herself, making sure the employee was talking to her. When she received a nod, she parted away from the Sniper and over to the desk the stranger worked at.

"Your order arrived earlier today, all I need you to do is sign this and the package is yours to take home." As she spoke, she placed a clipboard and pen in front of her. She then stepped away to gather whatever package she was talking about. 

Lena looked over the sheet in front of her, all the information laid out was her information. Her contact, her address, her name, everything except the payment option. It made her hesitant to sign it. She did not want to take something she didn't pay for.

She looked over to see how Widowmaker was doing, only to find the woman hadn't really been there with her at all. What minutes ago was a solid form was now a ghost of the past. Her body a transparent blue that was following a path she had made once before.

That made sense as to why the Spider hadn't touched her or inflicted any damage what-so-ever. Even provided an explanation to that fake unreal feeling that lingered around her most of the night.

Another figure came into view, the same semi-transparent hue of blue. It was herself.

No. Not herself. The look-a-like.

The copy was fiddling with pieces different articles of red jewelry, picking them up if they weren't locked away and holding them up to the Spider. A few chokers with a crimson red gem at its center, some bracelets and a few earrings, and with each item she seemed to be deciding what looked best for her.

"What do you think about this one, Lily?" The copy asked the fellow blue memory. In hand was an expensive looking bracelet that went around the upper arm rather than the wrist or forearm.

"Do you think I care at all?" She didn't show any reaction to being called Lily. A name she assumed she was referred to as while hiding amongst civilians.

"No need to be like that, Love. Just want to get something beautiful for the woman I snog with sometimes." She replied with a wide devilish grin on her face. 

An eye roll was tossed her way, "I'm not partial to any of this. If you get it, I'll wear it."

"Good enough for me!" The look-a-like held onto that bracelet as she walked around some more. The taller woman slowly walking in kind though she showed little to no interest in anything around her. 

"What are you looking for?" It was evident she wanted to leave.

"Something...green." She muttered in response, her gaze soon stopping at a jade beaded bracelet. "That'll do. Stay here will I pay for this." 

The copy of the Brit went and paid for the jewelry for Widowmaker, but asked for the green one to be set aside before proceeding to ask about getting a custom necklace to match. It was a request that was available and the order was put in place, she filled out all the information as though were the original Lena Oxton before adding a little note.

A date. That was all.

After that she returned to Widow, presenting her the small box the bracelet came in to protect it. "I think it'll go well with that outfit back at home."

"D'accord." She accepted it, slipping it into her coat pocket. "Can we leave?"

"Of course, let's go get some chips!"

That was the end of the see-through figures, practically vanishing into nothingness as the memory came to a close. The package being setting on the desk beside the clipboard brought her back to reality, and the employee's face was a questioning one when they noticed Lena had yet to sign the paper. "Something wrong, Miss?"

"No, no! Sorry, just feeling so deja vu, y'know?" She smiled as she signed the paper and promptly took the package, bidding the employee a good rest of their night before exiting the shop alone.

The note was left on the outside of the package beneath the recipe that was protected by a thin layer of clear plastic. It was the same date that was in the memory. The memory that clearly did not belong to her. 

And for a moment she did not understand what the date was for. Then it hit her. It was Lena's and Emily's anniversary date. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there is importance to all of this. Also there will be some more twisted stuff soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a fun side project rather than a plot-filled story. Though it does have a plot.  
> Suggestions are welcome, for plot and for fluffy moments.


End file.
